


Child and Queen

by uhpockuhlipz



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Baby Lexa, Clexa, F/F, Gen, because Clexa fans will appreciate, lexacoon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-22 02:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6066483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhpockuhlipz/pseuds/uhpockuhlipz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This will eventually be a compilation of one-shots about Lexa as a child. They're in no particular order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lexacoon

“Lexa! What the hell are you doing? _Slip daun_. You’ll get yourself killed.”

Lexa looked down from the branch she perched on, scowling at Anya, so far beneath her on the ground.

“ _Nou_.” She swiped her sleeve under her nose, trying to subtly rid herself of the tears and snot that sat sticky on her face. 

“Damn it, Lexa, I am your mentor. I said come down, and I meant now.” 

Lexa glared down at her, but she finally rose, swinging down from branch to branch until she jumped the last ten or so feet and landed in front of the older girl. She hoped her face didn’t show signs of her tears, and she kept her head lowered just in case.

Not that it mattered. Anya snapped at her to look up and Lexa did, startled by the aggressive tone, green-blue eyes wide and wet. 

Anya blinked once, jolted with the surprise of seeing her in tears. This child never cried. Not she, the most promising of the nightbloods. Not she, the second of someone as fierce as Anya. “Why are you crying?” she asked, her voice clipped. She dropped down to one knee in front of Lexa, her hands fall ing onto her shoulders. “Tell me.”

Lexa lowered her gaze again, ashamed. Anya would never cry. Anya would never doubt herself the way Lexa did. She would never wonder how she’d ended up here, why anyone would think she was special enough to possibly become the nexa _heda_. She wouldn’t think about how she was in Polis on a mere formality because her blood just happened to be black. No, that was only Lexa. Weak, useless Lexa. 

Isn’t that what the other nightbloods always said of her? Too clumsy, too weak, too stupid to be _heda_. As if she needed them to tell her that. She knew it already.

Mumbling, she said as much to Anya, who had to lean closer to hear the soft-spoken child’s words.

When she got a basic understanding of it, she gave Lexa one hard shake, drawing her gaze up again. “Never let them see you cry, Lexa. Don’t give them that weakness. You are strong, you are clever, and you are the best of all the nightbloods. One day you will be _heda_ and they all know it. They’re jealous, don’t you see?” 

Lexa sniffed again, but her chin jerked up a little. A hint of pride that Anya – older, stronger, faster Anya, Anya who was so _amazing_ – would think her strong enough to become the next leader of their clans. 

Anya nodded once at this dis play of pride before reaching up herself to wipe what was left of the tears from Lexa’s childishly chubby cheeks. Still so young, she thought. Still a lot to learn.

Noting that her cheeks and eyes were red from crying, Anya reached into her pocket and pulled out a tin of her paint. 

“Close your eyes. You look like a puffy, red raccoon,” she said with a smirk, using her thumb to smear the black across Lexa’s eyes and brow, along her temples, down the pudgy curves of her cheeks. She gave the black mask smudged points, like it was dripping down Lexa’s face.

“Well, you still look like a little raccoon,” she said as she sat back to study her work, “But a much more intimidating one.” Lexa opened her eyes and Anya studied her for a moment. Yes, much fiercer. There was a future _heda_ in those eyes. Lexa underestimated herself.

“They aren’t intimidated by me,” Lexa mumbled. “They think I’m just some scrawny runt. That boy Delphi is much bigger than me. Or even Nia. She's smarter.”

Anya rolled her eyes. Petulant children. “You know who doesn’t think you’re a scrawny runt,” she prodded, playing her trump card. “Indra’s girl. What’s her name? Mmm…”

“Costia,” Lexa breathed, and she looked up at Anya from beneath her lashes. Even with the paint smudged across most of her face, Anya could see the flush working its way up her neck and flooding her face. “Why? Did she say something?”

Anya smirked. She put her hand on Lexa’s face and shoved, sending the girl sprawling in the dirt. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she teased, standing again as Lexa scrambled up from the ground.

“Come on, tell me!” Lexa cried out as Anya walked back towards the town center, all but running to keep up. “Anya, tell me, what did she say?”

Anya only chuckled and kept walking.


	2. Weapons Masters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa and the other nightbloods are given an assignment - learn all they can about weaponry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember that all of these chapters are independent of one another and go in no particular order. xoxo

Weaponry was perhaps the most anticipated lesson of all for the Nightbloods. It would be their introduction to using actual weapons rather than the wooden swords they'd been practicing with until now. The “real” weapons would be blunted, of course, but at least the metal would sing like real blades. Not like the muted thud of the swords and staffs they'd been using.

 

Titus explained their task for the week: learn all they could about weaponry. Ask whatever questions they thought they would need the answers to. Ask whoever they thought they needed to ask. He watched the Nightbloods murmur excitedly together, watched their usual boasts and brags as they discussed how skilled they would be with _real_ weapons.

 

All except Lexa, who stood off to the side with her back straight and arms at her sides. She looked lost in thought, brow creased slightly as she stared off towards Polis. Titus moved to stand beside her, his hand gently touching her shoulder. She flickered her eyes over to him. “Lexa, did you hear your assignment?” he asked quietly.

 

“Learn all I can about weaponry. Ask whatever questions I think I need answers to. As whoever I need to ask.” Her lips curled slightly. Not exactly a smile, but close. “Was that right?”

 

Titus lifted his eyebrows. “Yes, that's right.”

 

“Don't worry, Titus. I understand my task. Excuse me.” And without so much as a glance back at the other Nightbloods, she was off. Titus watched her go and then turned back to the others, shooing them off to begin their assignment.

 

When he looked for them later to discreetly observe their progress, he found six of the others either in the practice arena or with their mentors. Learning how to use various weapons, which was not a bad thing. Certainly those were skills they would need to know as _heda._ It was important to be able to handle whatever came to hand.

 

There was no Lexa, however. When he asked, Anya shrugged, looking unconcerned. “I don't know where she is. It's Lexa. Have you looked up some trees or something?” When Titus only frowned at her, she rolled her eyes and turned fully to face him. “She takes her lessons seriously. She wouldn't be ignoring the task. But she's going to do it her own way. I don't know where she is, but I would check the market. Weapons have to come from somewhere. Lexa would want to know where.”

 

So Titus went into the center of Polis, walking casually among the stalls. He came to the one where weapons were displayed, sharp and gleaming. No Lexa, but when he asked, the tradesman pointed him off towards the edge of town center where smoke was blooming over the hut where the weapons were made, constantly dark clouds formed by the fires and work within.

 

Titus found Lexa there, standing off to the side with her eyes glued to the blacksmith she observed. She'd obviously been here for a while. Her skin was damp with sweat caused by the heat of the flames, all trapped by the walls of the hut. Still, she stood with her shoulders back and gaze unwaveringly locked on what the smith was doing.

 

She watched as he shifted a crude sword and began hammering the red-hot blade into shape, sparks flying where metal met molten steel. The smith was good at his work, and soon he was setting the sword aside to cool while beginning work on a spear tip. “Where do you get the metal?” Lexa asked abruptly, and he looked up with obvious surprise before telling her. Titus was certain she hadn't said much since arriving. She wasn't a big talker.

 

As soon as she had the answer, she thanked him and turned to leave. It was then she spotted Titus, her eyebrows lifting slightly. She nodded, just once, and then skirted around him and out of the building. Titus turned to watch her go, wondering what on earth she was doing.

 

//

 

It wasn't hard to figure out where her first stop would be the next day. So he waited just out of sight of the stall where the miners sold their iron ore, his eyes watching the direction she had to come from in order to come from breakfast. Sure enough, Lexa made an appearance. She marched right up to the miners and told them in no uncertain terms that she would be observing them today. They didn't argue.

 

So Lexa stood off to the side and watched the miners trade, the same expression of extreme concentration that she'd worn the day before now etched in her features once more. Titus left and returned several times, but she never wavered from her chosen spot. And when the trading day drew to a close, the only question she asked was, “Is it dangerous work in the mines?” And then she listened while they described encounters with reapers, face set in grim lines.

 

Another nod, another thank you, and then she was gone. She nodded to Titus as well as she passed. Obviously she'd been aware of his presence today. It didn't surprise him.

 

//

 

The next day, it was a stall for selling weapons, where she asked only, “do you do good business?”

 

Then she wandered through Polis, stopping various citizens to ask things Titus couldn't hear.

 

It wasn't until the very last day that she sought out Anya and practiced the mastery of her weaponry, her little body a blur of movement. There, Titus had no doubt of her skill. She had always been the best of this group.

 

When the test reached its conclusion, the nightbloods sat in a circle with their mentors and teachers. Each described their skills, what weapons they knew best and which they decided they needed work on. Each spoke of fighting not just with their weapons, but with their bodies, which needed to be strong because there wouldn't always be a weapon handy.

 

Lexa sat and waited for her turn. Titus nodded to her and she took a deep breath, fingers tapping lightly against her thigh. “I am very adept at weaponry,” she said. “Swords, spears, knives... Whatever comes to hand. I am fast and I am strong. These are all important things.” She glanced at Anya here, uncertain. Her mentor nodded for her to continue.

 

“But mining the ore to make these weapons is dangerous. The miners are in constant danger of being attacked by the reapers.” A ripple of sound moved through the small gathering. “Once made, the blacksmiths must work tirelessly in overwhelming heat to forge these weapons. And those who sell them? Their business is thriving because every man, woman, and child needs to be armed in order to feel safe. Everyone knows at least one person they loved slaughtered. Because we are at war. We are constantly at war.”

 

Her voice rose slightly as she said it, each syllable emphasized sharply with her anger. Her eyes glowed with it. “We are at war with each other, we are at war with the mountain. We are always in need of defending ourselves. So while I would agree that it is important for us to know how to use these weapons, it is also important to know _why._ And to wonder why that reason continues to _be_ a reason. _Strength_ is only one part of what we would need to be in order to be a good commander. We should also use what we are to become to make changes. To show our people our wisdom and compassion. A blade only gets you so far.”

 

Lexa tossed the dagger she carried into the middle of the circle, where it clattered against the stone. “Without a hand willing to wield it,” she said quietly, “A blade can do nothing. It is something we must consider, as the potential future of this land. _That's_ what I learned about weaponry. ”

 

Silence reigned. It seemed no one could breathe, let alone speak, as the weight of Lexa's words settled over them. Beside her, Anya reached out and gently patted her knee – a silent gesture of faith.

 

“Thank you, Lexa,” Titus said at last, and their eyes met.

 

He felt certain he was looking at the future _heda,_ one very different from any they'd had before _._


	3. The Healer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Costia heals Lexa's wounds when she gets hurt during training.

Delphi was stronger, and he was huge. He also had a few years on Lexa, who was much smaller. And what was more, she really disliked the fighting portions of it. She preferred Titus lecturing them about the history of their clans and the world they lived in. She preferred conversations about political strategizing. She preferred learning how to live off their land, how to hunt, how to clean a fish. Anything that wasn't fighting, which she thought of as pretty pointlessly violent when they should have been focused more on how to make peace. 

Luckily for her, she was also very fast. She evaded Delphi's long arms and wildly swinging wooden sword, ducking and dodging while he taunted her to just make a move. So she did, ducking under another one of his wild swings and (thinking of Anya's lesson about disabling the enemy as quickly as possible) bringing the flat of her wooden sword up between his legs. 

Delphi's sword clattered to the ground as he clutched at himself, wheezing, and Lexa ducked back quickly. Behind her, Anya was bent over double with her laughter and a few of the others that looked on we're having a good laugh as well. Lexa didn't. She shot Anya one of her sternly serious looks, so out of place in her small fox face that Anya only laughed again. 

Behind her, Delphi had managed to straighten up again, though his face was red. He took three long strides towards Lexa and lifted her off her feet by the front of her shirt, his anger bright in his eyes. "You little cheat," he snarled, and his other hand lifted as if he might strike her. 

But another voice cut in - Anya's, her expression cold and threatening now with her hand on the hilt of her sword. "Pleni. The fight is over, Delphi. You lost. Put her down."

Still scowling, he dropped her. Lexa landed hard on her feet, stumbled, and fell backwards. Her head smacked the ground hard, bouncing off like rubber, and when she sat up and pressed her hand there, her fingers came away black. She scowled, not out of pain or even anger at Delphi, but because she hated the sight of that thick black blood. She hated remembering it ran through her, the sole reason she had ended up here. 

"I'm fine," she said to Titus when he moved to help her stand, shrugging off his helping hand to stand by herself. The world tilted dangerously beneath her feet and Lexa was afraid she might embarrass herself by getting violently ill. 

"Lexa." A gentle hand wrapped around her elbow and Lexa looked sideways, her eyes going wide when she saw the girl from the market. Costia, she'd learned since then. Costia, the daughter of Indra. Costia, who was apprenticing with a healer in Polis. Costia, with her dark, beautiful skin, her deep brown eyes, her riot of dark curls, the smile that made Lexa's belly feel like it was filled with the glowing butterflies she'd chased as a small child, back when she was still in her village, back before she'd bled black and changed everything. 

She wanted to say "I'm fine" again, but she could never seem to form words when Costia was looking at her. So she let the other girl lead her from the practice arena, not even bothering to look back to where Titus lectured Delphi about proper fighting etiquette in the arena. 

"He's such a bully," Costia said as she led Lexa to the healer's hut, a small frown tilting her lips. "He's from Tondc, you know. My village. He's always been like that." Lexa shrugged her slim shoulders, but wasn't sure what to say. It didn't seem to matter. Costia nudged her down onto a bench and picked carefully through her hair to study the wound. "It's not too bad. Just a scrape and a bit of a knot."

Lexa nodded mutely and sat stiffly, fighting hard to keep from flinching. She didn't want to look weak. But when Costia applied a salve that made her scalp burn, she couldn't bite back the Yelp. She ducked away from Costia's hands and shot her an affronted look, which had Costia wincing in sympathy. 

"I'm sorry, but it keeps it clean. You'll be okay." She moved to stand in front of Lexa again, smiled softly. "You did well. But you didn't like doing it, did you? Fighting. You never seem to like it." She waited, but Lexa stayed silent. "Admitting it isn't weak, you know," she murmured, and she gently brushed Lexa's hair back from her face. "I've always thought that peace is harder to achieve than war, and braver to attempt."

Lexa glanced up at her, searching her features to see if she was serious. Costia looked back unwaveringly. "I think so too," she mumbled finally. "But our people seemed to prefer what is easy."

Costia nodded thoughtfully, then dipped down and placed a kiss lightly on Lexa's cheek. "You are braver than them," she said as Lexa flushed and ducked her head. 

Mumbling a thanks, she stood and slipped out of the hut again. 

//

Lexa lost fights over the next couple of years, but it only seemed to be when Costia was watching, or at least nearby. Otherwise she was improving quite a bit. The best in her group, in fact, but she still somehow managed to get knocked around. 

Completely by chance, of course, Costia would murmur with a smile as she tended her wounds. 

Lexa would nod solemnly because, yes, of course. 

On one such occasion, Costia was mopping up Lexa's split lip when she paused suddenly and looked her dead in the eye. "You don't need to bleed to talk to me," Costia murmured, tracing one of Lexa's braids with a fingertip. Lexa watched her, heart thundering. "You could just say hi, stop to talk. I wouldn't turn you away."

Her thumb brushed the edges of Lexa's dark war paint, the smudged mask she'd remade every day of training since Anya had smeared it on her when she was little. "You could ask me if I wanted to take a walk," Costia continued quietly, those dark eyes Lexa so loved sparkling with humor and... And something else. Something that made Lexa's stomach flip. "You could ask me if you could kiss me," she added, and her voice was even quieter. 

"What... What would you say?" Lexa managed to ask. 

"I'd say no, of course." She waited a beat, then burst into laughter at Lexa's affronted look. "Because I'm going to kiss you, Lexa." And still laughing quietly, she dipped down and laid her lips softly on Lexa's. 

Lexa did not lose a single fight after that.


	4. Gona Haihefa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa finds peace in Polis' stables and spends the majority of her time there when she isn't training with the other Nightbloods.

She liked the quiet best, away from the fuss and hurry of Polis.

 

Particularly the kind of quiet that came with the soft sounds of the horses. The shuffling of hooves through hay, the snuffles, the swish of their tails as they lazily waved away the flies.

 

Sometimes Lexa would sneak into the barn and visit them for hours at a time. Sometimes she tucked herself into an empty stall and fell asleep in the hay to the familiar sounds and smells that reminded her  of a home she no longer knew. She didn’t have memories of that place, but sometimes, with the scent of hay tickling her nose, there would be little flashes. Like seeing something move in the corner of her eye.

 

Lexa liked the horses better than the people here. They weren’t pushy or angry or inconsiderate or mean. The horses did not press a practice sword into her hand and then turn her to face the other children that bled black like her, telling them to fight. Horses gave back to you whatever you gave to them, and Lexa always gave them gentle attention and heaps of affection. They would nuzzle her sweetly in turn, blowing their warm breaths into her hand or against her cheek as she stroked them.

 

Lexa paid particular attention to a horse that they kept down the end of the stables. She’d been warned that he was mean-tempered and likely to bite, but Lexa had never had any such problems with him. She wondered if he acted badly because people treated him badly. He had a deformity, as a lot of animals did in the wild, where an extra face seemed to grow out of the side of his head. Kept alive because he looked fearsome, no doubt, but they would never breed him.

 

He reminded her of the children who were killed or cast out of the villages when they were born with such deformities. Pinched faces or melded digits, twisted limbs or drooping features. It made her sad.

 

They called him _Tu Feis,_ but Lexa hated that name. It seemed cruel to refer to him by his deformity, and she wondered if that’s why they bit him. Lexa called him _gona haihefa,_ her warrior king, because he was the strongest and proudest horse in Polis. Possibly in all the twelve clans.

 

“ _Yu ste yuj, gona haihefa,”_ she murmured to him on one such visit to the stables, and she stroked her hand first over his muzzle, then over the half-formed muzzle of his second face so that he wouldn’t feel as if she avoided touching him there. He snuffled and nudged at her until she giggled and reached into her pocket to retrieve his treat. She offered the carrot and he nipped it gratefully from her palm.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be practicing your _gonasleng,_ Lexa?”

 

Lexa dropped down from her tiptoes and whipped around, spotting Anya where her mentor stood watching her from the doorway. She gauged her mood and decided she was more amused than annoyed, which made Lexa relax slightly. “My _gonasleng_ is fine. He doesn’t like it so much. _Trigedasleng_ sounds nicer to his ears.” She stroked his nose again, still watching Anya.

 

Anya studied the horse with raised eyebrows. But she’d learned not to argue with her, Lexa figured, because Lexa tended to do what she wanted no matter what Anya or anyone else said. She didn’t like taking orders. Anya said it would make her a good commander one day.

 

Lexa gave _gona haihefa_ one last pet and then wandered towards her mentor. She took up the belt she’d left at the front of the stables, grimacing at the practice sword that dangled from it with distaste, and refastened it around her narrow hips. Anya ruffled her hair in that way she hated and she swatted at her hand with a scowl that had Anya laughing.

 

“One day, that horse will be yours,” Anya said, nodding to him. Lexa looked back and shrugged.

 

“He belongs to himself. But I think he might let me ride him. Since we are friends.”

 

They left the barn together, Anya using Lexa as an arm rest to annoy her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tu feis = two face  
> gona haihefa = warrior king  
> yu ste yuj, gona haihefa = you stay strong, warrior king  
> gonasleng = warrior language (English)  
> trigedasleng = tree people language (what the grounders speak on the show)


End file.
